Intervention
by POTOF
Summary: A young woman observes the situation from the sidelines. She must make a decision that could change her life forever. What will she choose?
1. Introduction

Before you go any farther, I think I should give fair warning about the strange phenomenon that you are about to encounter. If you still wish to read this afterward, then that is your choice. Just do not say that I didn't warn you. The thing that makes this story so different is that it's not really mine. It all happened to me, but that's just the point…it simply _happened_. There was no planning of any sort on my part, and the voice made almost all of the decisions for me at crucial points. It still does sometimes. Not that it's ever told me exactly what to do, mind you. That part is always left completely up to me. I even have to decide whether or not to trust in the voice. What it usually does is tell me if I should act at all. It also takes great pleasure in criticizing me for the way I usually do things. Thinking about the best way to go about something hasn't ever been a strongpoint of mine. I am much better at it now than I was back then, though I would probably slip back into my old habits if life became as stressful as it used to be. Almost every decision I made during that period of time ended up being important. My body was usually on the move before my brain knew what I was doing. There were always a few seconds, however, between this point and the time when I was committed to that action that I knew exactly what I was doing. I could have stopped myself the majority of the time, I just rarely wanted to. That fact is what made the voice so exasperated.

Now, I know what you're probably thinking. You think that the voice was He, don't you? I can assure you with utmost certainty that it was not. That's not to say He didn't have anything to do with it, because I'm sure He did. But you'll hear more about that later. The voice got me where I am today, though once or twice I didn't listen to it. I think the voice might be have been a little too cautious in the beginning, but being inside my head for a few months fixed that for the most part. Heh. When I wake up each morning, I find myself thanking the voice once again for leading me down the right path. Who knows which side I might have been on without the voice's guidance? It knew which side I would be more comfortable being on in the end, but it still let me make my own decision. Many people would say I still joined the wrong side, but they haven't been through all the adventure and heartache that I have. All I can tell you as you make your own judgments is to listen. When the rules of society cloud your mind and you become confused, a voice of your own will come. It is sitting dormant inside you, waiting for an invitation to help. All you have to do is be quiet. Be quiet…and listen.


	2. Chapter 1

"You look fine!" Kristen said, rolling her eyes at me.

"Oh, please tell me she's not doing it _again_!" Katie groaned.

Both were chorus girls like me, and had been the first ones to accept me when I came to the opera house a few years back. There was another girl in the room too. I glanced in her direction and received a short but soul-burning glare in return. This was the way Noemi looked at everyone, but it still managed to unnerve me. She once said that she didn't do it purposefully, which was surprising. Noemi's full name is 'Noemi Allette Destler', a name which flows as gently as the moonlight that oft' lights her heavenly face. She has brilliant blue eyes, pale skin, and shiny chin-length black hair. Her beauty seems to always overshadow the traits that make her truly spectacular. Noemi is kind and just, not to mention intelligent and insightful. She views the world with a type of bored nonchalance that I will never be capable of, yet also somehow manages to hate the world and its contents with a desperate passion. Slightly trembling under her gaze, I wondered what the world had done to make her eyes burn in such a violent way. Looking at myself in a mirror, I frowned. I had never liked the way I looked, and the outfit I had to wear for this particular opera seemed to be begging me to take it off.

"Take me off and let someone prettier wear me. It's the least I deserve! I **am** beautiful after all." it pleaded.

Seeing the way Noemi's body seemed to perfectly model the dress didn't help much either.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes don't go well with this." I said to my friends worriedly.

Kristen crossed her arms and looked at me, eyebrows raised. As she also has these traits, my complaint could be taken as an insult.

"You can get away with it, though!" I exclaimed.

"How's that?" she asked sarcastically.

"Maybe because you aren't freakishly tall!" I replied miserably.

"Five-feet, ten inches tall is far from being freakish." Katie assured me for what must have been the billionth time. She has dark brown hair and light blue eyes, and is an inch shorter than myself.

To be fair to my two friends, I will take the time to say a bit more about them. I did, after all, just spend a while rambling about Noemi. Both Kristen and Katie are very bright. They seem to grasp concepts that take me longer to figure out. All of our lives are filled with music, but Katie's interest is based more heavily on the orchestra. It is no secret that she would rather be in the pit than onstage, but this option is not available for women. Kristen loves to sing and also greatly enjoys the role-playing that comes with it. My friends both have good senses of humor, and have the ability to make me laugh on even my darkest days. Kristen and Katie are the kind of friends that you spend hours on end talking to, only to be unable to say what you talked about when asked.

As my best friends in the whole world, they did a fair job of calming my insecurities. And what of Noemi, you ask? I hesitate to call her a friend because the title is too ordinary. Instead of calming them, Noemi made my insecurities vanish. She would say something simple but intense and I would forget why I was worried in the first place. It freaked me out a bit the way she could see past all my barriers to the real me. That was something even I had a hard time doing the majority of the time. Noemi was my idol and my friend all at the same time. Part of me wanted to say 'savior', but it wasn't quite so. Something was still gaping inside of me, occasionally sending out a sensation that wasn't pain, but still hurt to feel. Noemi and my friends made a temporary covering, as did music; but a hole is a hole and I would never be whole until the hole was filled. Confusing? Good.

I was never worried about not being noticed by the men either. Being seventeen and single, attention was almost guaranteed. The major setback that being tall presented was that it was harder to dance. I wasn't too bad, but I had to practice more than the other chorus girls did. This meant that I hardly ever had time for visits from any of the male population, but I didn't care. The men that came to the opera were usually snobs. Any half-decent young men that weren't already claimed still seemed to think the world of fine parties and elaborate feasts, even if they couldn't afford to host any themselves. Then there was Laurent Broussard. He was my nightmare, and he refused to let me be. For over a year, this man had been seeking my attention. On several occasions he had mentioned the location of his sleeping quarters. As if I would be caught dead in the company of such a person as he! Broussard's personality was similar to that of Joseph Buquet's. The only differences between the two men were their appearances and method of approach. Buquet was a mess, while Broussard kept himself as neat and clean as possible. Broussard would say the same things as Buquet did, but would never touch you. I didn't know what I was looking for in a man, but neither Buquet nor Broussard inspired any feelings within me but those of disgust. Anywho, since you probably hate interruptions and wouldn't care about all that depressing crap right now anyway, back to the actual story.

As the music began and the chorus rushed onstage, I could see the audience start to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Well of course they didn't like it! Every line in the opera was full of raw, unmasked passion. Any so-called respectable person would never bare their soul in such a way. I sometimes inwardly dispute whether or not most people are even capable of such strong emotion. What was the point of performing for people when they were so closed-minded? It was true that this opera, this _Don Juan Triumphant_, was not made of whimsical songs and a happy-go-lucky theme. There was more to this particular opera. Whoever had composed it didn't do so to convey the usual fairy-tale story or to tell of the humorous antics of some made-up character. This was more real than any opera I had ever seen or participated in. The story line was most likely something from the composer's imagination, but no one could ever fake such passion and not look…well…fake! Maybe this explained why the sound of Piangi singing the male lead, the part of Don Juan, made me want to weep during rehearsals. He was a good actor and a fair singer, but I still felt that he wasn't doing the part justice. The deepest part of the composer's passion seemed to have gotten covered up. There was only one person could have expressed it correctly, and that was the composer himself.

A smile crossed my lips as I moved to the side of the stage to wait. This was my favorite, as I got the chance to momentarily relax and also watch the show. Happiness reigned throughout my body to the point that I was nearly euphoric. I halfway wished that the composer _were_ here, that he would come and fix the mess we were making his masterpiece into. But that kind of thinking wouldn't do, not at all. I could only imagine what kind of chaos would ensue if he showed up. My smile faded as troubling thoughts swamped my brain. Regardless of how wonderfully distracting these thoughts were, I was still nervous. I would never forgive myself if I messed up, even if the mistake was invisible to the audience. A hand touched my arm and warm breath brushed my ear as a voice quietly spoke the calming words I needed.

"Relax and focus. You know you can do this. Block the audience from your mind's eye. They matter not. Let the passion escape from inside its hiding place and flow throughout your body. Passion is all that matters now. Never forget passion, no matter what happens."

As the sound of Noemi's perfect voice washed over me, my fears vanished into nothing. But there was more to that sentence than comforting reassurance. Something inside my mind sensed a subtle warning also. She knew something. I turned to ask what that was, but she was gone. That was Noemi for you, here and gone again without a sound.

I shook off the feeling of doom that she had left me with and allowed my thoughts to wander once again toward the composer. The reason I was so slaphappy when thinking about him was that there were memories pressing at the corners of my consciousness. They weren't exactly happy memories, but they did make the current situation somewhat ironic. They also pinpointed the exact moment in time that I'd decided to get truly involved. I suppose that I knew too much to just stay neutral. And you probably have **no** idea what I'm talking about. You see, everyone who had been at the masked ball not too long ago knew exactly whose opera we were performing that night. I let the memories wash over me, and I was taken back to that colorful evening. (Whoosh!) Before I knew it, the many interesting costumes were once again dancing before my eyes. Once again my eyes and ears were filled with foreign merriment.


	3. Chapter 2

You are no doubt wondering why I said 'foreign' merriment. I said this because, as I entered the room full of bright colors and smiling faces, my heart rejected it all. For some inexplicable reason, all I could think of was the man from the rooftop. Nothing else had seemed to matter the last few days. I had tried to talk to Noemi about what had happened, but she seemed to know when I was going to bring it up. Those also seemed to be the only times that I couldn't find her. One might think that I was just reading too much into it, but they don't know Noemi. When she doesn't want to be found, Noemi has a habit of disappearing completely. Very frustrating.

Three months had passed since that fateful night, and I'd thought that I had finally managed to forget about it. _Il Muto_ had been showing that evening, and I'd been doing my best to remember all of the dance steps. Suddenly, the stagehand Buquet had dropped down from above, a rope around his neck. The managers assured the audience that it was just an accident, but we all knew better. The Phantom's voice had already echoed throughout the room that evening, reminding us that box five was supposed to be empty. I guess no one had taken him seriously at the time, but they would now. Madame Giry herded all of us chorus girls into a tight group, and I felt my stomach lurch in protest. I had always been a bit squeamish, and needed fresh air as soon as possible. Slipping away from the group, I hurried towards the roof.

I was about to go through the door leading outside, when I heard voices. Someone was singing, no…two people. Who on earth would have the nerve to sing after what had just happened? I listened closer and discerned the voice of the Vicomte de Chagny and Christine Daae.

"_Say you love me." _Christine sang softly.

"_You know I do."_ the Vicomte sang back.

Then together, _"Love me, that's all I ask of you."_

It was sweet, but I thought I remembered Christine being in love with someone else.

'She told Meg not too long ago about how much she loved her 'angel'. That must be what I'm thinking about.'

There was hardly anyone in the opera that hadn't heard about Christine's angel, but no one knew the story behind it.

'Well, an angel can't give physical comfort.' I thought with satisfaction.

The lovers' song drew to a close and I heard the two coming toward the door. I quickly hid and waited for them to pass, then took a moment to make sure they were really gone. My hand was once again on the door to the roof, when I heard another voice.

'What now?' I thought. The voice was clearly male, and was quiet and sad.

"_He was bound to love you when he heard you sing. Oh, Christine." _

It took me a moment, but I recognized the Phantom's voice from earlier.

'Wait a minute,' I thought, 'he said 'I gave you my music.' Doesn't that mean….'

So the Phantom was Christine's angel! But if her 'angel' was really a man, what was she doing with Raoul?

'The Phantom's a murderer, you idiot!' my sensible side screamed.

Still, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him as I listened to him quietly cry. Quick footsteps sounded in the snow, and he sang loudly, _"You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!"_ Even in his fury, I could still hear the hurt in the Phantom's voice.

'If only that hurt wasn't there, I bet he would have an excellent singing voice.' I thought.

As I went back down the stairs, my mind told me to stay out of it.

'This isn't your problem, mind your own business!' it said angrily.

I tried to wipe the incident from my mind, but every time I tried, the memory of the pain in the Phantom's voice brought the whole thing back. Part of me wanted to do something to help, but I was too afraid that I'd be doing the wrong thing. A few nights later, I was lying awake with my eyes closed. I was listening to the peaceful quiet darkness that night always brings, willing for an answer to just pop into my head.

Sleep had almost come, when I heard a voice whisper,

"Wait."

I fell asleep, trusting that the unknown voice was right. Trusting that it knew what it was doing, because I didn't.


	4. Chapter 3

It was three months later, and I was still waiting. The voice had given me that one instruction, and had since become silent. What was I even doing here? The masked ball was a celebration. Celebrations were for people who were happy. For the life of me, I could not find one spark of happiness in my entire being. I didn't even want to be happy! How could I laugh and smile when I knew that somewhere he was in pain? Why did the Phantom's pain haunt me so? Why did I feel an ache every time I heard his voice singing in my head? Why did I suddenly care about the emotional status of a murderer? Why did I feel like my sole mission in life was to see him smile, just once?!?

My head started to hurt and I felt very dizzy. Heat flooded my body and then left it just as quickly, leaving me shivering. I knew at once that I was going to vomit if I didn't get away. I had to get away from all the loud obnoxious laughter, the smiles, and the senseless frivolity. I needed silence. I took an unsteady step toward the stairs, but stopped there. As if on cue, as soon as I had moved the room had become deathly still. Not one person was moving or talking, and everyone's gaze was fixed on the stairway. I looked up, and there he was!

The Phantom was about six-foot-two, dressed in a dazzling red suit with white skull mask. He had a strange smile on his face and was surveying everyone with a look of superiority. Not exactly the kind of smile I'd had in mind, but it was better than nothing. His eyes momentarily rested on me, and I found that I couldn't breathe. His emerald eyes were endlessly deep and oh so very real. They burned my soul like Noemi's always did, but deeper. In that half-moment that was left, I was able to discern the difference. There were several things that were night-and-day different. The first was that the burning and pressing occurred inside of my chest instead of my brain. Second was that the sensation was spreading. The biggest difference was that it felt…wonderful. I somehow knew that I could drown in those eyes at that very moment and die blissfully happy.

"This is why I told you to wait."

The voice was back!

'The Phantom's presence must have something to do with it then.' I reasoned.

"_Why so silent, good messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?"_

Wow. I had been right, he _could_ sing.

'He looks pretty good too.' My mind added.

When I readjusted my focus back onto the Phantom, he was moving down the steps and toward Christine. The connection between the two was impossible to miss. The Phantom looked down, and ripped a ring from around Christine's neck.

"_Your chains are still mine, you belong to __**me**__!"_ he fumed.

Turning and moving slightly toward the steps, he flung his cape over his arm and disappeared in a flash of fire.

A trapdoor had appeared in the floor, and I found myself staring at it.

"Now!" the voice commanded.

I rushed toward the hole and jumped down into it. As soon as my head cleared the opening, the hole sealed and it became pitch black all around me. I landed on my feet, but ended up falling forward. The room I was in consisted of nothing but mirrors. When I attempted to stand, I felt a sharp pang in my ankle, forcing me to sit down again.

"Smooth move! How are you going to get out of here with a twisted ankle?" the voice said mockingly.

My ankle being twisted had nothing to do with me leaving, as there appeared to be no way out anyway.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said 'now', you know." the voice said in an annoyed tone.

'You told me to move! What else was I supposed to do?' I snapped.

After a few minutes, I curled up into a ball and started to cry. I was scared, confused, and my ankle was throbbing with pain. With all of these factors bearing down upon me, it took a few moments for me to realize I was being watched. I looked up, and the Phantom was staring at me. There wasn't just one of him, though, there were at least ten or fifteen. His stare came from every direction, and I crawled to the middle of the room to escape the nearest one. The Phantom looked quite perplexed, as if he didn't know whether to laugh or get angry.

'If he gets angry, I'm dead meat.' I thought.

I was starting to become quite frightened of his gaze, when I began to look deeper into his eyes. Nothing can explain all the things I saw in them, because there was too much there.

After a few moments, the Phantom moved and was gone. All I knew was that he was beautiful. I had seen it in his eyes, and suddenly wanted nothing more than for him to stay with me.

"Please don't go." I whispered desperately.

The Phantom reappeared, and a look of complete confusion was on his face. I looked at him pleadingly, and he disappeared once again. Thinking that I was trapped all alone, I put my head in my lap and closed my eyes as tight as they would go. A sliding noise came from across the room, and I looked up to see only one Phantom…standing in the room with me. He still looked confused, but at least he hadn't left. I smiled ever so slightly and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Thank you." I said with relief.

"Who are you?" the Phantom asked.

My eyes went wide. He wanted to know my name. The name of one of the few people who would give anything in the world to have him speak it, even if it would be only once.

"My name is Brittany, sir. I'm a chorus girl."

He tilted and bowed his head slightly, like a true gentleman would. At that exact moment, Madame Giry came through a hidden door and grabbed me by the hand. She helped me to basically hop my way toward the door, and I couldn't help but look back at the Phantom. His eyes met mine for a brief second, and I could have sworn that I saw a gleam in them. It was as if he and I had shared a secret of some sort, and he was clandestinely winking at me. Odd as it sounds, I gave him a small smile in return without ever knowing why.

Then in a whisper that I was somehow sure only I could hear…"Brittany…"

I gasped. He had said my name.


	5. Chapter 4

When I was almost back to Madame Giry's room, several other chorus girls popped out of nowhere and began to pelt me with questions. Madame tried to fend them off, but I protested.

"I don't want any ridiculous rumors going around about all this. I might be able to keep a few from circulating if I answer some questions."

She reluctantly let me stay, but stood close by.

"Your ankle!" exclaimed one girl after a while.

I recognized her as Madame Giry's daughter, Meg.

"Did _he_ do that?" another asked in disgust.

"No, I just twisted it." I said in exasperation.

Really! This was starting to get ridiculous.

"And I doubt that the Phantom has time to go around hurting the ankle of a simple chorus girl." I added crossly.

"So you're trying to tell us that he didn't do _anything_ to you?" the third girl asked in a rude tone. I was about to scream in frustration. Why wouldn't they just go away? Why weren't they satisfied by the truth? Did they need gossip that badly? The only thing that helped me keep my head was the Phantom's voice constantly echoing in my head. It was saying my name.

"He did nothing to me." I said confidently, "Nothing except ask me my name."

The girls' eyes grew wide and they all said at once, "You didn't tell him, did you?!?"

"Of course I did!" I said, "What was I supposed to do, just ignore him?"

This sent the three girls walking quickly away, gasping and whispering among themselves.

Meg pulled a fourth girl aside in the hallway, and I heard her say, "Did you hear about that girl's terrifying encounter with the Phantom?" just before I followed Madame into her room.

Well, I had tried.

"You handled that very well." Madame Giry said carefully.

I took the pack of ice she had handed me and pressed it to my swollen ankle.

"But…?" I prompted.

"That last part, did you make it up just so they would leave you alone?" she asked.

"No," I said, somewhat irritated by her question. "I didn't make it up at all."

"You mean to say that not only did he ask your name, but that you also gave it to him?" Madame clarified, her eyes scrutinizing my every move.

"Yes, I did." I answered, starting to get angry, "What of it? If I want to give my name to a murdering extortionist, isn't that _my_ business?"

Looking slightly taken aback, Madame Giry quickly regained her composure.

"You understand the possible consequences of what you've done, then?" she asked calmly.

"I haven't done anything, he won't hurt me." I said softly.

"How do you know that he is not just a senseless killer?" She questioned.

I was about to turn all my fury upon her, but then I saw that she was just asking. She was asking how I knew he wasn't one, not implying that he was.

"His eyes told me, Madame." I said truthfully.

At first I didn't think she understood, but then I knew by her expression that she did.

"I see." she said, and then told me to sleep.

I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on Madame's door.

A light came on in the other room, and I heard the Vicomte say, "Madame Giry, I must speak with you."

She shushed him and then led him inside. One of them stepped into the room I was in, so I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"Isn't that the poor deluded girl who jumped down the trapdoor?" the Vicomte asked quietly.

I was about to jump up and defend my sanity, but Madame beat me to it.

"Sir," she said in a warning tone, "if you want any answers from me, you will be kind enough to not insult any of my girls."

"My apologies." The Vicomte said hurriedly.

'Answers?' I thought, 'Answers to what?'

Madame Giry quietly began to tell the Phantom's sad tale. She spoke of him being beaten and caged as a child. He had apparently been an attraction for a sort of freak circus, run by a group of traveling gypsies. His deformed face was put on display for people to laugh and scream at. She had rescued him, and hid him from the world's cruelties. He had given himself the name Erik and had lived in the opera house ever since. As Madame's voice faded into silence, I realized that I was crying. How long had I been crying, silent sobs shaking my body as they were now?

'How could anyone stand to put those beautiful eyes behind bars, to inflict pain upon their owner?' I thought in horror.

I don't remember having heard the Vicomte leave, only sensing that the room was darker and more silent than before. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night…or many nights after that either. For reasons unknown to me, Noemi disappeared then too. Why did she have to do that the only two times that something important happened that I needed to talk about? Everything else could have waited, but I had to learn to keep all my questions and concerns about those two events to myself. I only hoped that I would be able to keep at least a loose hold on my sanity until she reappeared.


	6. Chapter 5

The scene fled from my mind as I felt someone's elbow gently nudge my ribcage. Apparently my reverie had not gone unnoticed. I turned to see Kristen pointing and staring confusedly. She was not looking at me, as I had expected her to be, but at the stage instead.

"Who" she asked, turning her head toward me, "is that man?"

I sighed in relief. She had rescued me from my memories. Following her hand, I found myself looking at a man (who, by the way, was certainly not Piangi) dressed in the lead's costume. He looked startlingly familiar, but for some reason I just couldn't remember his name or where I'd seen him before. About to tell Kristen this, I was stopped by the sound of the mystery man singing. I felt myself go pale and thought I would surely pass out. It was He. Only Erik could have sung in such a beautiful baritone voice. Only he could touch my soul so deeply using nothing more than words.

'Oh no, oh no, God _please_ **no**!' my suddenly panicked mind screamed.

I sensed pressure building in the back of my throat…would it come out as a scream or that day's lunch? I turned to see if Madame Giry had noticed yet. She had, but was not freaking out like I was. How could she possibly be so calm? And where was Noemi?

'Not again!' I thought with an inward groan. 'I count three times now. Three strikes, she's out.'

She would have to show her face eventually, and then she would tell me every thing she knew. Even if I had to set a trap for the little procrastinator, she would tell me. But for the moment I was on my own, and about to have an anxiety attack.

'What in heaven's name does he think he's **doing**?' my panicked mind screamed.

He had to know that the gendarmes swarming the opera house were there for him! They were going to shoot him, and what would he have died for? I didn't have to wonder for long. As Christine sang her scripted reply, all of the pieces lined up in my mind. She was the reason that he had come. I should have known that he would, but I just hadn't considered it as a possibility. No matter. Christine would insure that he wasn't shot…wouldn't she? Doubt filled my mind as I remembered the scene on the rooftop, but I resolutely pushed it aside. Erik was willing to risk his life just to be close to her, to caress her, as he was right then. She had to realize how much he loved her, that he would do absolutely anything for her. How could she ever turn him away when his love for her was so plain in his eyes, the whole world would see it if they only looked? It wasn't possible. I wouldn't need Noemi after all. She would just miss out on one of the most amazing love scenes of all time. Poor girl, it was her loss! Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fought to keep them back. No matter how beautiful the scene before me was; I would **not** let tears ruin my make-up. Well, I wanted to look at least halfway acceptable when the chorus returned to the stage! This time I would focus every ounce of my energy on making the performance perfect. Erik deserved my absolute best, and I would reach perfection even if it killed me.

'I just hope Christine knows what kind of a man she's getting.' I thought.

I wondered if she would be able to handle it. A man with that amount of unreleased passion deserved an equally passionate partner, if at all possible.


	7. Chapter 6

Everything was absolutely perfect. Looking back, I now realize how foolish and blind I was. If I had been paying any attention at all I would have known immediately that something wasn't right. It was too perfect. By the time I noticed the odd look in Christine's eyes, there was nothing I could do. Even if I had known in advance the unspeakable betrayal she was about to commit, I doubt that I could have prevented it. As Christine rested her head against Erik's shoulder, my mind was screaming at him to run while he still could. I was confused by this inner voice, as I still couldn't believe Christine would do anything to hurt Erik. My heart knew, though, even if my mind denied it…because eyes can't lie. Body language and spoken words can deceive, but Christine's eyes betrayed her. Passion was in her voice, and I think a part of her was still true to Erik at that point. This passion, however, failed to reach her eyes. Erik was too in love to see that she meant to hurt him. I have to admit, Christine played her part well, stroking his cheek as he poured out his soul to her. Then it happened. (Bum bum bum!!)

Christine took the edge of Erik's mask and whipped it off faster than I would have ever thought possible. That was the moment all Hell broke loose. People screamed, women fainted, and several men looked as though they might be sick. I felt sick too, but for completely different reasons. I won't say that his face didn't come as something of a shock, because that would be lying. Once you got past the initial shock, though…it wasn't really all that bad. Erik reached for Christine, but she had already moved out of range and was scurrying to the side of the stage opposite to me. He took a step towards her, but stopped as the Vicomte de Chagny appeared suddenly at her side, attemptingto shield her from the Phantom's view. Erik recoiled in shock and confusion. Looking around in a dazed sort of way, he stood stunned and unmoving for what seemed like eternity. This look reminded me of a time I'd gotten separated from my mother. My hand had slipped from hers and I stood looking through the clusters of people, wondering which way I should go. A moment later she had come back and proceeded to scoop me up into her arms, shielding me from all of the strangers who seemed to be giving me odd looks. Erik had lost the only hand in the world he had to hold, and there was no one to shield him from the eyes of his enemies. Also known as the majority of the whole freaking world.

I had just made up my mind that I was going to sprint onstage, grab Erik by the hand, and run, when he moved.

Raoul shouted at the still-stunned gendarmes to "Shoot, for the love of God! Shoot!!!" and I felt something click inside of me.

The room grew hazy and I vaguely registered the lack of echoing gunshots from all around as anger and frustration boiled up inside of me. These two feelings alone managed to crash over me and drown every single beautiful emotion that had been coursing through my body only minutes before. They could not do this. Surely there had to be some kind of law against such violent cruelty. Closing my eyes, I made a feeble attempt to control at least the anger. Frankly, I felt that I could have killed them all then and there without a single ounce of remorse. Several shots rang out then died, and I forced my eyes open. There was no body…where was he? I looked around and saw the Vicomte shouting and pointing toward one of the doors. Erik had escaped! As the door swung closed, I caught a glimpse of him walking away. Either only a couple of the gendarmes had actually fired their weapons, or they all had very bad aim. Even though Erik was alive, I could tell something was wrong. He was walking with a sort of lopsided posture, and his posture had always been perfect. I found myself wondering if he _had_ been shot, and began sprinting towards the door. All my anger had faded away for the moment, replaced by overwhelming fear. He couldn't die! Not when he'd said my name! The lack of logic in that statement didn't occur to me at the time, the thought just kept sounding in my head and in my heart. All my focus was now on finding him, and before anyone else. A shudder went through me as mental images swam before my eyes of what the people of the opera would do if they found him. '_If_.' I absolutely refused to think the word 'when'.


	8. Chapter 7

Having no clue whatsoever as to which direction Erik had gone, I opted to give him more time to escape. It would have been foolish to waste precious time searching the entire opera house for him. There were no pools of blood anywhere, so I assumed (and desperately hoped) that if Erik had indeed been shot that the wound wasn't too life threatening.

"Wait!" said the now familiar voice inside my head, "What if he's not trying to escape?"

I was slightly annoyed, as the voice was what had gotten me involved in this mess to begin with and then decided to leave me to fend for myself. It did, however, have a good point. There was no telling what Erik would do when emotionally hurt; he had always been unpredictable anyway.

'Okay then,' I thought as I ran, 'back to plan A: get to him before the mob does.'

Unlike Erik, the mob's actions would most likely be fairly easy to predict. I guessed that they would take the most obvious and well-known route to Erik's lair, via the two-way mirror in Christine's room. She had probably even told them about it herself. Stupid, treacherous girl! If I got there first and locked the door, I'd have more time to find the mirror's opening mechanism. If Erik _was_ there, getting him to leave the opera house might prove to be a tad bit more difficult. "One thing at a time, Britt. You're doing the best you can right now." the voice said soothingly. Up ahead was a turn-off. If I went straight, it would eventually lead to the dormitories. Turning left would take me to the chapel.

I could hear the mob in the distance as I came to the turn-off, pausing briefly to catch my breath. Just as I was about to make a mad dash forward, something on the ground caught my eye. Barely noticeable against the dark stone floor, spots of liquid dotted the left tunnel. My eyes came up and I peered into the darkness, my breath suddenly catching in my throat as I glimpsed a sliver of white slightly above eye level.

Recognizing the white as the same color of one of Erik's masks, I thought, 'He might have carried it with him as a spare.'

I then realized that, if this was true, I was staring at him. About to take a step forward, I became distracted by the loud sounds of the approaching mob. Not having realized they were that close, I momentarily turned my back to the entrance. As they drew ever closer, my feet began to glue themselves in place. Someone had to have seen me run out, seen the worried look on my face. They would catch me if I didn't move soon. Taking a frightened step backwards, my body stiffened. I couldn't move an inch and all my efforts seemed to get me was that I started to violently shake all over. I was as good as caught now.

The stress was too much. For the first time in my life, I was going to faint. My legs started to buckle out from underneath me, but the expected drop towards the floor never came. Instead, a hand grabbed me around the waist while another slipped over my mouth. I was briefly picked up and brought backwards into the darkness of the turn-off. I'm ashamed to say it, but I panicked. Not even realizing that I had the strength in me to do it, I began to fight the person whose body I was now pressed against.

"What are you doing?!?" the voice shouted in alarm, "Don't you realize that it's…"

I quieted the voice and focused all of my energy on fighting my attacker. Desperate to be free, I used my hands to try and pry the man's (and yes, I could tell that it was a man's) hand from my mouth and then attempted to get his arm out from around my waist. As the mob passed by, I became still. The moment that they were out of hearing range, I jabbed the person standing behind me with all of my might. I missed my target and hit the man's side instead. A cry of pain burst forth from the man's lips, and I felt his body begin to lean on mine. Swiftly moving out of the way, I turned to identify my attacker. There on the floor knelt Erik, gasping for breath and holding his side. Crap.


	9. Chapter 8

I spent the next few moments uttering panicked apologies and fluttering my hands over him, wondering what to do. I then realized that I needed light. Carefully slipping into the hallway, I grabbed a torch and returned to stick it into one of the holders close to where Erik sat. I quickly knelt beside him and un-tucked his shirt, looking intently at his side. I couldn't tell how bad the wound actually was at first. The fact that Erik was hurt at all made me want to vomit, so it was as if he'd been shot by a cannon to me. Once I had calmed down I realized it wasn't all that bad.

'It probably won't even need stitches.' I thought with relief.

Taking off the first layer of the top of my outfit, I wadded it up and pressed it against the wound.

'I doubt the managers will care much what I've done to it after they figure out whose side I'm on.' I thought with a slight smirk.

All the while, Erik just sat staring vacantly into space. The look in his eyes began to scare me more than the blood. There was no anger or even sadness in them (those would have been more uplifting) only…resignation. Seeing that look on _his_ face made my heart break into a million pieces. I tried to shake it off, saying that he was just still in shock. About half an hour later I gave up.

Erik was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. The wound was clean and had stopped bleeding a while back, I had seen to that. I had also sent Katie to tell the mob that he had committed suicide in the river. She and Kristen had come by looking for me, and were quite shocked to find me willingly aiding the Phantom. I wouldn't normally ask someone to lie for me, but it would take people a while to figure out that Katie had lied…if they ever did. Kristen I sent to tell Madame Giry about the current situation, and to ask for her assistance. It would look suspicious if Madame was away from her girls for too long, but she could still cover for me. I doubted she would approve of what I was doing either, but that wasn't anyone's business but my own. Even with all these dangers avoided, he was still going to die. With his eyes half closed and his face paler than death itself, Erik had lost all interest in staying alive. Christine's 'angel', my idol, was broken. He had given her his soul and she had crushed it. Oh, how I loathed her!

Falling into despair, I curled up into a ball sitting against the wall, closed my eyes, and sobbed my heart out. I wanted things to be right again, and I wanted Noemi. Somehow I knew that she could help me more than anyone else. Where was she? Why hadn't she come looking for me along with Kristen and Katie? Did she truly not care about me at all? Shielding myself from the pain accompanying that thought, I let my mind take me back to my one encounter with Erik that had ended fairly well. A freeze-frame appeared in my head of how he looked at the masked ball. He'd been so full of life then, standing over all of us with his head held high. He'd said my name. I'd fallen in love with that man without even realizing it. I should have known by the way his voice made my body shiver, even the very first time I'd heard it. Now it was too late to do anything about my latest epiphany. A lot of good it did me at this point in the game. Some game. Out of all the players, the only person I truly cared about lost. Permanently. Finally realizing why the wise voice in my head had compelled me to jump in after him that night, I sobbed even harder as eternal heartache seeped through my shield and lit up the pathetic remains of my blown-up world.


	10. Chapter 9

Erik's eyes had been closed for quite a while, but I could feel them resting steadily on me starting soon after I'd begun crying. He probably thought I had lost my mind. I really didn't care.

'Maybe I am insane…' I thought to myself.

This sent me into a fit of strange laughter which I'm sure freaked Erik out to no end. The hollow, numb feeling that had settled over me slowly began to fade under his constant gaze and was being replaced by another feeling altogether. A very strong emotion was taking over my body, making me feel alive again. What _was_ this feeling? As my breath became more labored and my limbs began to quake, I recognized it for what it was. Anger. Erik's attitude had pissed me off! Before I knew what was happening, I was on my feet and giving him one of my best death glares. He thought he had the right to break down and I didn't? No way! Pacing back and forth, turning in circles and waving my arms through the air at random intervals, I cursed everyone. I must have been a sight to see, damning almost everyone I knew in turn. A lot of people got it in that short period of time. There were very few people I didn't curse, and I think Christine got it at least four or five times. Kristen, Katie, and Erik himself were the only people who were not mentioned, though Erik's attitude was something different altogether. Once I ran out of people (and energy), I sat down again on the floor. I then looked over at Erik and saw plain and utter shock on his face.

My cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment, I made an attempt at an apology.

"I'm sorry, Erik." I said quietly. "I-I just…"

Unable to finish my already lame excuse for a sentence, I ended by throwing my hands in the air and letting them fall to my sides. Why did I always have to embarrass myself around him? The shock on his face softened, and I felt my stomach do a flip as his eyes regained a slight portion of life. His expression changed so fast that I blinked in surprise. Apparently he figured it was his turn to glare at me, because that was exactly what he was now doing.

"What?" I asked nervously.

Had I offended him in some way? Did he perhaps prefer 'Mr. Phantom' instead? I swallowed a giggle that was working its way up my throat and returned my focus to finding out what I'd done.

"How do you know my name?" he questioned somewhat accusingly.

Oh, right. I had let slip a piece of information I wasn't supposed to know.

'Should I tell him?' I wondered.

He was bound to figure it out sometime, and it would probably turn out better if I told him myself.


	11. Chapter 10

Forcing my shoulders to relax, I couldn't help but give a small chuckle. This didn't really help the glare factor.

"Do you think you're the only one in the opera house that ever eavesdrops on people?" I asked with a nervous half-smile.

I inwardly braced myself, preparing for Erik's fury.

"It happens to be one of my bad habits, especially when the topic is one I'm interested in. I listened in when Madame Giry was telling your story to the Vicomte after the masked ball."

When I realized Erik wasn't going to yell at me, I continued.

"She must have thought I was asleep, or maybe that I'd passed out from the shock of my…how did Meg put it? My so-called 'terrifying encounter with the Phantom'."

He seemed to have no response to that except for a slight raise of his left eyebrow. Feeling renewed irritation at Meg's remark, I muttered, "After all, it's not like you **made** me jump in after you."

A confused look came over Erik's face.

"Why _did_ you jump in after me?" he probed.

All right, so he wasn't really 'probing', but it sure felt like it at the time. I didn't want him to know how much _I_ knew.

'It would probably either freak him out or make him mad.' I thought. 'Besides, it's not like I went up to the roof that night just to spy on people. So, in that case, he doesn't really need to know.'

"I don't know why. Instinct was mostly to blame, I think." I said evasively.

Seeming to loose interest in conversation, Erik began to stare at the wall.

'Oh well.' I thought, 'What he doesn't know won't hurt…me.'

Wow. That sounded even shallower than I felt, which was pretty shallow.

I winced as my excuses and my lie faded into the darkness. Secrets and deception was how the whole situation with Erik and Christine had gotten started, and I was not going to start a relationship that way!

"Well, maybe instinct didn't really have that much to do with it." I admitted, suddenly finding the wall an interesting thing to look at too.

When he turned his head to look at me again, I knew I had Erik's attention. Taking a deep breath, I told him about my other eavesdropping episode…the one on the roof.

"I'm sorry." I said afterward. "I would have left but I was confused. By the way Christine had talked about you to Meg, it sounded to me like she loved you. The contrast between the two conversations was just so different…"

I thought it best not to finish that sentence, as Erik was looking more and more miserable by the moment. I silently vowed never to eavesdrop ever again.

"When I followed you through the trapdoor, I was remembering that night. Having been there, I felt strangely connected to you. The rest _was_ just instinct. I felt the desperate need to do something, anything, and so I did."

I was on the edge of hysterics, so I tried to calm myself down. "Besides, I saw the Vicomte coming and figured he would do it if I didn't."

Taking several deep breaths, I realized that was about the most stupid ending to a confession I'd ever heard. Plus I'd told him about my one time instance of eavesdropping on Christine. The old Erik wouldn't have been happy about any of this. The new one didn't seem to care.

"I really thought she loved you, though." I said again softly.

"Stop pushing that topic, you insensitive idiot!" the voice shouted.

The voice was so loud this time that I almost didn't hear Erik's hollow laugh as he gave his sole answer to all my rambling, "So did I."

That laugh hurt me more than if Erik had walked up and struck me across the face with all his might. Why? Partly because of its lifelessness, but not completely. Looking at him as he laughed, I once again came upon the painful feeling of heartache. I wanted to hold him. Okay, so I wanted a lot more than that. What hurt though was that he wasn't mine to hold, and never would be.

'The best part of him will always belong to Christine.' I thought bitterly.

She had given his broken spirit back to him, but somehow still seemed to have a sickening invisible hold on it. Erik could take his heart and spirit back, but it wouldn't be easy. He would need some help as they healed, maybe even need help with the actual process. Well, I didn't know how much Erik would let me help him, but I wasn't going to leave him to do it alone. I just needed to confirm that he still wanted me around. I had, after all, said many things that night to give him reason enough to be fed up with me. But how was I supposed to get the answer to that question without actually asking it? I looked over at Erik at the same time he turned to look at me. The answer was there in his eyes. He wouldn't say it out loud, but I could see that he wanted me to stay. So I would.


	12. Chapter 11

How long we stared at each other I will never know. I was the first to look away, however reluctantly. Standing up, I looked around. We both needed to get out of the middle of the hallway. It was a near miracle that no one but Katie had come by yet anyway. The main problem wasn't getting to a place unnoticed, but rather finding someplace where we would _remain_ unnoticed. Turning toward Erik, I asked him if there was a spot he could go to where he would be…undisturbed.

"Of course." He replied, getting to his feet. "My home should remain fairly lacking in unwelcome guests, thanks to you and your friend."

I nodded. Without another word to each other, we went our separate ways. As I headed toward the dormitories, my thoughts turned toward Erik. He would be all right, now that the worst was over. I'd go check on him tomorrow, just to make sure. My hand on the doorknob to my shared room, I turned instead in the direction of Christine's room. It was about one o'clock in the morning, but I couldn't have cared less. We needed to talk, and the sooner that happened, the better. Not in a polite mood whatsoever, I skipped knocking and barged straight in.

Even before I lit a few of the nearby candles, I could tell that she wasn't there. Lucky for her she wasn't.

'She's probably out frolicking with her beloved Raoul, enjoying her newfound 'freedom'.' I thought to myself.

Needless to say, this thought did not improve my mood in the slightest. I was not going to waste any sleep doing something creepy like waiting in the dark for her, so I got up to leave. Before I blew the candles out, a movement at the other end of the room caught my eye. I jumped in surprise, but laughed at myself when I recognized my own reflection looking back at me. Staring at myself in the now infamous two-way mirror, I told the voice in my head that it was being stupid. It wanted me to go through to the other side!

'Erik probably just wants to be alone for a while. He's most likely sleeping by now. In fact, I can't think of any reason that he would be still awake.' I told it, very proud of my logic.

"You aren't asleep, what makes you think he would be?" the voice retorted.

'That doesn't mean he wants to be bothered!' I said, somewhat irritated at it again.

"Would you want to be alone if you'd had the kind of night he's just had?" the voice asked in a gentler tone.

Crap, it had me! It looked as though I would just have to endure whatever Erik decided to do with me when I got down there. Reluctantly conceding that I wouldn't want to be alone, I sighed and started to search for the trigger.

Getting to the edge of the lake, I was moderately frustrated when I found out that I would have to swim.

'Oh well…' I thought as I slipped into the water.

When it seemed as though I might be nearing the other side of the lake, a fairly loud crashing noise reached my ears.

'What on earth is he doing?' I wondered, slightly speeding up my pace.

The crashing sound came again and I became annoyed.

'He'll have the whole opera house awake and charging down the stairs at this rate!'

Hoisting myself up, I ran up the steps…only to be stopped dead in my tracks by the sight that met my eyes. Erik knelt on the floor in front of several smashed mirrors. At least I knew now what the noise had been. I slowly came up behind him, not knowing what to do. As far as I could tell, Erik had no idea that I was even there. Taking a quick look around, I noticed tributes to Christine placed throughout the room. _Why_ had I let him come here alone, allowed him to face this on his own?!? The fact that I could not have possibly known about all the reminders of Christine had nothing to do with it as far as I was concerned. I listened for the voice, expecting it to start giving me wise advice as it always did. Nothing. For the first time, when I was actually prepared to listen to the voice and desperately needed its guidance, it was quiet in my mind. Like me, the voice had been shocked into silence. I was on my own.


	13. Chapter 12

I gently laid my hand on Erik's shoulder, finding it miraculously steady. As soon as I touched him, Erik stood and spun around to face me. Anger flooded his features only to be replaced seconds later by fear. The fact that I hadn't even flinched surprised me, because I was sure my features would show how afraid of him I was in that one moment. He began to back away from me, his eyes frantically searching for…something. What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly so afraid of me? Erik's hand came up to cover the right side of his face, and I realized that he didn't want me seeing it. I'd vaguely noted that his mask was off, but I hadn't thought much of it at the time. Erik spotted the mask laying a few feet away and dove for it, but I was faster. The shock, hurt, and just plain fear he felt as I put the mask behind my back showed in all his features, especially his eyes. I steeled myself against this look and reached for his arm before he could turn away. He could have easily broken my grip, but he would have had to hurt me to do it. Somehow I sensed that this fact was really all that kept him from running away.

Erik trembled under my touch as I held him in place.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Looking into his eyes, I wanted to know the truth, but I also hoped that he didn't see in mine the urgency I felt in needing to hear his answer. Seeming to not have even heard the question, Erik just stared at me.

'Now why does this seem familiar?' I asked myself sarcastically.

There's a sign of insanity right there; using sarcasm with yourself. A few tears escaped from my own eyes as I noticed that Erik had been crying. Having lowered his hand during the mad 'mask dive', the right side of Erik's face was now free for me to look at.

'I wonder what he would say if I told him I thought it made him look cute.' I thought mischievously.

Smiling, I reached up and gently stroked his right cheek. My heart began to ache when he involuntarily flinched. A stray tear flowed down his cheek, and I brushed it away. Erik's eyes closed, and I could feel him tense and relax in rapid intervals.

"Brittany." he whispered.

It was a quiet plead for help.

"He wants to trust you, but it's going against his instincts."

Finally! The voice had returned and I had some help. So he was trying to teach himself to trust me?

'Maybe I should give him a little nudge in the right direction.'

I suggested. The voice agreed fervently. Putting the mask aside, I wrapped my arms tightly around him and pressed myself against his chest like a second layer of clothing. I don't know what I expected, but it sure wasn't what happened! His arms came slowly around me and he laid his head on top of mine. The ever-unpredictable Phantom had done it again, going against all my expectations to the extreme.

I immediately realized that I was getting him wet, so I pulled away. Idiot. I looked at Erik and was shocked to see immense pain in his eyes.

"He thinks you were rejecting his embrace, you moron!" the voice scolded.

Wanting to assure him that I was not, I explained myself.

"Erik, I'm wet. You don't want to get all soaked, do you?" I asked, attempting to make him smile.

No go.

All he said was "Oh…" and looked at the floor.

Desperate to make him understand, I decided to risk everything in one final attempt. The voice started screaming in protest. I finally had the guts to just tell it to shut up, and to my surprise, it did.

"I want to show you something, Erik." I said quietly.

He looked at me, suddenly appearing older and very tired.

"You've got to shut your eyes though!" I said quickly.

Sighing, he asked when he would be able to open them.

"You'll know, trust me."

I had to do this now. My courage was fading, and I was starting to wonder if the voice had been right. Once Erik's eyes were closed, I quickly stepped forward…and kissed him.

I pulled away and looked down, deathly afraid to look into his face. A moment passed, and his hand lifted my face. His eyes were my undoing. Then he was kissing me. Note the way I phrased this sentence; _he_ was kissing _me_!!! Tears started to flow freely down my face, and I was powerless to stop them. Never in my life had I felt so alive…so absolutely complete. There had been a hole in me ever since _Il Muto_. One that only Erik could fill. One that I had been certain would always be there, gaping for everyone to see. Now the fire that had been slowly simmering since he first looked into my eyes was burning red-hot throughout my entire body, filling the hole until it overflowed. I would die if that hole reappeared, that I knew. My right hand went into Erik's hair, and I frowned at the fake feeling of it. I felt Erik stiffen as I pulled the wig off, but he relaxed again as my hand resumed combing through his hair.

Slightly pulling away, I breathlessly whispered into his ear, "I like you better as a blonde."

A combination between a snort and a sob escaped him, and I smiled. This was heaven.


	14. Chapter 13

If you think that part sounds bad, you should have been there for the third night. The second night was dramatic, but it ended well. You think I'm over exaggerating about the third night? Well, how would you like to wake up to find…never mind. I'm getting ahead of myself, and I've always hated it when people do that. It makes stories much more confusing and complex than they have to be. Anyway, Erik and I slept the rest of that night in each other's arms, so it turned out all right. Day two ended up being fairly awkward. I felt Erik starting to withdraw from me, and we slept with our backs to one another for the majority of the night. It was about three in the morning when I woke up, confused as to the reason. When I finally turned to check on Erik, I found him sitting on the edge of the bed. He had his head in his hands, and looked very weary. I quietly slipped out of bed and walked around to sit beside him.

"What's wrong, Erik?" I asked gently.

He just shook his head. Regardless of what I'd thought earlier, he still didn't trust me.

"Please?" I whispered.

Erik had put his hands in his lap and was looking at me from out of the corner of his eye.

"I need to know that our relationship isn't just physical. I want to know that you feel like you can confide in me." I explained.

A few moments went by and he still hadn't said a word. Embarrassed, confused, and hurt, I looked away.

"You shouldn't be here."

'What the heck?!?' I thought, alarmed. 'Erik finally says something, and he chooses to say _THAT_ ?!?!?!? Oh crap. He's figured it out. He knows that he doesn't need me anymore, but that it's the other way around!'

Panic took over, and all I could respond with was "Oh?"

Luckily, he didn't notice my noncommittal response and continued.

"You should be upstairs practicing for the next performance. Instead, you're down here, where the damp air is doing who knows what to your voice." he said disgustedly.

Surely he knew I didn't care about the operas now. How could I, after what everyone had done to him? He had to know. So why was he making excuses?

"Do you want me to leave, Erik?" I asked timidly, afraid of the answer.

"It would be the right thing to do. People will wonder where you've gone." He said.

'AAAAGGGGGHH!!! That doesn't tell me **anything**!' I thought, frustrated.

Taking his hand, I dared to look into his eyes…those eyes that could always disarm me at a moment's notice.

"I didn't ask you what you thought was right. I asked you if you wanted me to leave." I stated.

"Why would you stay?" he asked sadly.

That was an easy enough question.

"I would stay because I could." I said with a shrug. "I enjoy just being in your presence."

Oops. Maybe that was saying a bit too much. He laughed, but it was a real laugh this time.

"I find that hard to believe. I have been what civilized people would call 'unsociable' for at least the past two days. If, however, that is how you truly feel, I would certainly be glad of your company."

As you very well know, that _was_ how I felt, so told him I would stay. Erik's eyes turned the warmest shade I'd seen them since _Don Juan Triumphant_, and I felt my spirit soar to amazing heights. I had made him happy.


	15. Chapter 14

As I said before, nothing compares to the third day and its results. I woke up a little before midnight that third day, and knew immediately that something was wrong. A candle had been lit, and Erik's arm was thrown over my midsection. My brain was a little fuzzy from sleep and so it took me a moment to notice that there was someone else in the room. I tried to sit up, but Erik's arm held me tightly in place.

"Erik," I groaned sleepily, "what's going on?"

My question faded into the semi-darkness and I heard a gasp.

"So," a voice said in a disgusted tone, "you've already got another helpless chorus girl trapped down here as a prisoner."

Recognizing the Vicomte's voice, I struggled to sit up once more.

"What kind of nonsensical tale did you weave for this one, Phantom?" he spat.

Erik's arm was fairly cutting off all circulation below my waist at this point; he was pressing me down so hard. I finally forced his arm off of me, and sat up. He didn't say anything; he just looked at Raoul, and then turned a frantic gaze toward me. It was as if he was worried that Raoul's question had broken some sort of spell, making me suddenly want to leave. I took his arm and wrapped both of mine around it, assuring him that I was going nowhere.

I suddenly felt in the mood to answer the Vicomte's rhetorical question.

"A better question, sir, would be 'What business is it of yours **what** he tells me?'"

Ignoring my question and squinting to look at me, Raoul asked "Haven't I seen you somewhere before? Somewhere besides in the chorus, I mean?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Vicomte!" I replied with a sneer, "I'm the 'poor deluded girl who jumped down the trapdoor', remember?"

His eyes grew wide and there was a flash of silver as he drew his sword. Erik immediately removed his arm from my grip and situated himself between the Vicomte and me. Or rather, me and the Vicomte's sword.

"I wonder how long you've had her under your spell." Raoul said incredulously. "Hopefully I'm not too late to free her."

It wasn't too hard for me to grasp what 'free her' meant, and I screamed in horror as Raoul drew back his sword. Jerking hard on the back of Erik's shirt, I pulled him down so that he now lay face-up on the bed. I then proceeded to throw myself across him in an attempt to shield him. The Vicomte paused, not wanting to kill the person he was attempting to free.

Erik had apparently mistaken the meaning of 'free her' for 'kill her', because he was still trying to get up. When the Vicomte didn't stab me with his sword, Erik's eyes glazed over and I knew he understood.

"Brittany, get off." he said calmly.

I shook my head rapidly and he picked me up, turning abruptly to put me back on the bed. He reached for his sword, Raoul having stepped back toward the lake patiently waiting for his opponent. I grabbed Erik's arm, desperate to convince him to stay. To my surprise, he violently ripped his arm away and turned to stare at me with anger pouring from his eyes. I quickly moved to the far side of the bed in fear. He walked toward the lake, sword in hand, and I started to cry. Why was Erik angry with me? Why did he insist on fighting Raoul? As the two began to fight, I could see right away that Erik was going to lose. His fighting style was all about brute force, while Raoul's style was more about finesse. My father had always said that even though force seemed faster, finesse was much more efficient. I could see now that he had been right.

I was up and running long before Erik's sword flew out of his hand. Raoul drew his sword back for one last plunge, and I hit him full on. When I hit the lake, I stood up as fast as I could and dove for Erik's sword. Looking from the Vicomte to Erik, I saw shock on both of their faces.

"What…" Raoul started.

"If you want to kill him, you're going to have to kill me first!" I said through oncoming waves of tears.

I didn't know why Erik was angry with me, but there was no way I was going to stand by while Raoul tried to kill him. That was Christine's thing. The Vicomte just stared at me, so I thrust my sword at him, making him block it.

"Fight me!" I snarled.

After a few prompting moves of my sword, Raoul began to fight me for real. He drove me to the ground, and I blocked his sword by putting both hands on mine. I had one and on the hilt and one on the blade, so when I pushed Raoul's sword away, my left hand was sliced. Wincing at the pain in my hand, I stood to my feet.

I made a move toward Raoul, but stopped when he asked, "Why are you defending this creature?"

That did it.

My emotions couldn't take any more stress. My grip became lax, and my sword clanged to the floor. My knees gave out and I fell to where I was sitting on them. Sobs racked my body and I looked everywhere but at Erik.

I resolved to explain myself to the befuddled Vicomte, and then find a more productive way to protect Erik, other than the current 'getting myself cut to pieces by Raoul's rapier' approach. It had become plain that he wasn't very anxious to do so, but I wasn't taking any chances. I took several deep breaths and got my fearful sobbing down to simple tears running down my cheeks.

"First," I said, feeling the need to defend Erik with words as well as actions, "he is **not** a creature. He is a man. Second, I defend him because…"

I paused, looking at last toward Erik. His beautiful eyes gave me the strength to tell the truth.

"I defend him because he is my life." I said tiredly, "I defend him because I love him."

The disbelieving look on the Vicomte's face was enough to stall any attempts I would have been making at backing away, which was what I had been planning to do.

"What has he done to you that has made you so delusional?" Raoul asked with obvious pity and concern in his eyes.

I sighed.

"What will it take to get you to believe me?" I asked exasperatedly, "There must be some sort of compromise that would satisfy you."

The Vicomte looked from me to Erik and back again several times and then cautiously said, "What do you have in mind?"


	16. Chapter 15

I stood speechless for a moment, shocked into silence. I never expected him to be…_reasonable_.

"Well," I said slowly, "any compromise we make would have to involve a lack of death on both sides."

"That probably would be best." Raoul agreed, slowly sheathing his sword.

"I would also like to be able to live out my life in peace with whomever I wish." I said with a glare.

"So would I." he stated, "That was the reason I came here in the first place."

"Be careful." The voice warned, "This is much too easy."

I had already come to that conclusion, but it was nice to know that I wasn't completely paranoid.

"So," I asked as politely as I could, "what are your terms?"

"My terms include everything that has been said so far, plus a challenge." He said.

"What kind of challenge?" Erik snapped.

I jumped ever so slightly in surprise. I had been so intent on making a deal that would keep him safe that I forgot that he was standing there watching us.

"If she truly loves you, then she won't mind proving it." Raoul said, gesturing toward me with his hand.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I asked him, glaring once again.

"The only way that you can convince me that you love him is to come back with me." he stated.

"Leave?" I said numbly, "You want me to leave him to prove that I love him enough to stay?"

"Yes," he answered eagerly, "but only for a short while. Long enough to prove to you that you are just under his spell." He paused and then said, "Or prove that I'm wrong and you are perfectly sane. In which case you could come back whenever you wanted."

Now that part of the deal I was more likely to agree to.

"How long?" I asked hesitantly.

"One month." He said confidently.

One month. As I slowly turned to look at Erik, I prepared myself for the hardest trial of my life. When I met his gaze, Erik gasped. He knew that I was going to accept the terms of the agreement. Raoul came over and offered me his hand. I knew that if I accepted his offer to help me to my feet, I would be agreeing to his other offer as well. I wondered what his true motives were, and looked into his eyes to investigate. He wanted to help. I saw kindness and concern in his eyes that, though unnecessary, was genuine. He wanted to insure the safety of his fiancée, but also to make sure that I knew what I was doing. I opened my mouth, prepared to say the words that would show him that he was wrong. Nothing came. A sad smile came across my face, and I took his hand. It was only when I felt the warm strength of his other hand helping me to my feet that I realized that I was shaking. I walked over to Erik, who hadn't moved since I'd last looked at him. I nearly lost it when I saw that he was crying. The fact that I was the cause of those tears did make me lose it. I ran the rest of the distance between him and myself, wrapped my arms around him, and buried my head in his chest. Erik pulled away slightly and then motioned for me to stay put for a moment. He walked over towards his bedroom and disappeared inside it.

When he reentered my line of vision, I saw that his hand was closed around something.

"Turn around and close your eyes." he gently instructed.

I did as I was told and felt something cold and hard lightly settle onto my chest. Erik's hands touched the back of my neck, probably fastening a clasp of some sort. The cold thing on my chest dropped slightly and then was still. I heard Erik move to where we were facing each other. His hands lingered at my neck, then slowly moved up and forward to caress my face. I released a sigh of pleasure.

"Open your eyes, love." he whispered softly.

I opened my eyes and looked down. Hanging delicately from my neck was a medium-sized locket. It wasn't nearly the prettiest piece of jewelry I'd ever seen. The metal appeared to be solid gold, but that seemed to be its only redeeming quality. Light scratches marred the surface, which was devoid of any design whatsoever. I opened the locket out of curiosity and saw my own reflection staring back at me.

"So that you never forget who I love." he said, "No matter what happens, that will never change."

Looking up into his eyes, I saw sadness and despair. He thought I was leaving him forever.

"I'll come back." I swore quietly.

"No," he said firmly, "I shall come for you myself. Be at the mirror as soon as time allows."

"I'm already there." I whispered.

Reaching up to touch his face, I couldn't help but let out a silent sob. Kissing each other as if we could stay that way forever, we said the only goodbyes that we knew we could bear to give.

As Raoul led me up toward the world of sunlight, I quietly walked away from the only thing that could fill the gap inside of me that was slowly reappearing. We exited the mirror, and my legs gave out. I fell to the floor sobbing, not caring that there were several other people in the room.

"What did you do to her?" Katie snapped.

"She came willingly." Raoul said in a calm tone.

"I highly doubt that." Kristen stated, a dangerous tone to her voice.

Noemi. I needed Noemi.

"Couldn't you have at least waited until they were awake to go down there?" another voice said.

'Madame Giry.' I thought absently.

"She needs more sleep. We have to take her to her room." She said harshly.

"No." I said firmly.

Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at me.

"Where's Noemi? I need to talk to her." I said.

Nobody spoke a word or made any movement except Raoul.

"I know where to find her." He said quietly.

"So do I." Madame said in a low tone, "I just don't know if this is the time to…"

"She won't mind." I interrupted.

She sighed and made a move forward, but I was being lifted before she could move again.

"I've got her." Raoul said.

At that point I wouldn't have made a fuss if _Christine_ were taking me. All I cared about was that I was going to see Noemi at last.


	17. Chapter 16

We arrived at the door to Noemi's room and Raoul lifted a hand to knock on it. I swiftly reached out and grabbed it before it made a sound. He looked down at me confusedly and I shook my head. I knew that Noemi would avoid me at all costs, and would therefore pretend not to be there. There was also the problem of Raoul's honor. In other words, he would never enter a lady's room without permission. I, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about the proper rules of etiquette. Motioning for him to set me on my feet, I had Raoul wait outside for me. This conversation was going to take all of the energy I had reserved at the moment, and I didn't fancy the idea of crawling to my bed on my hands and knees. I turned the doorknob and threw open the door in one deft motion, hoping to take Noemi by surprise. I found her halfway through a trapdoor situated in a far corner of the room.

"Oh no you don't!" I growled.

I ran and launched myself at her quickly disappearing form.

"If you value our friendship, you won't do this." She said calmly as I began to drag her back into the room by the arm.

"'If you value our friendship…'" I mocked, "Why don't I tell you a little bit about friendship."

Noemi's eyebrows rose in surprise; I had never challenged her before.

"First, I don't remember anyone saying that a good trait in a friend is secrecy. I don't believe hiding from one's friend is on the list either!"

Noemi sighed as she daintily situated herself on the bed. "You don't understand the situation." She stated.

"Oho! And I suppose _you_ do?" I snarled, "You have no idea what my life has been like the last few months! I wouldn't even be here if Raoul had just stifled his blasted curiosity! But I have said too much already. Perhaps you are right to flee from me. There are some things that should remain unspoken."

I headed toward the door, but was stopped by three words that I would not have expected to come from Noemi's mouth, "Is he dead?"

I slowly turned, a million questions and explanations whirling through my head.

"Who do you mean?" I asked in what I thought was an innocent voice.

"You know perfectly well who I mean." Noemi said with a glare, "Did Raoul kill him or not?"

"What makes you think you have the right to know?" I retorted, my glare just as deadly as hers.

"I think that one should be entitled to know such things about their own brother." She said with a casual flip of her hair.

After the initial shock, I realized that her confession made everything line up. The way that their eyes burned in such a similar way, the melody that flowed through each individual sentence they both said, and why Noemi hid from me every time that I came to her for assistance. Of course she couldn't tell me anything! There was no way she could have known that I was on the same side as she and her brother were.

Out of every new realization that had come to my mind in that one moment, I said the one thing that I knew would relax her tense muscles.

"He's alive and well I'm relieved to say."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Noemi's shoulders relaxed and she quietly let out the breath that she'd been holding. I thought that the tense atmosphere in which we had been conversing moments before had finally dissipated, but her next question proved me wrong.

"If this is so, then may I ask the reason for your tolerant attitude toward Raoul?"

She was glaring again.

"He is assisting me for the time being." I said flippantly. "What of it? Why do you suddenly care whom I spend my time with?"

I immediately realized my mistake when I saw Noemi slowly rising from the bed's edge.

"This couldn't possibly end well." The voice stated worriedly.

I stood straight, preparing myself for yet another verbal duel.


	18. Chapter 17

Noemi began to slowly circle me, and I turned my body according to her every movement. If knowing Noemi and Erik had taught me only one thing, it was to never turn your back on anyone you hesitated to trust.

"What is your game now?" she asked with a harsh laugh, "You somehow gain my brother's interest, yet scorn it by fraternizing with one of his greatest enemies."

"My quarrel is not with Raoul, but Christine. Raoul cannot help whom he comes to love, and neither can I."

Noemi's and eyes went wide, and then relaxed back to their original size.

"You met my brother once at the Masked ball." She began, so quietly that I could barley hear her, then her voice slowly grew in volume. "He was kind enough to tolerate your intrusion when he would have not done so for any other unfortunate being. I wish now that he would not have been so merciful! For reasons he would not reveal even to me, his sister, he took an interest in you. He only said 'She is not like the others, I feel it in her.' Now you betray his unusual show of trust by having romantic notions about the person who tried to kill him!"

What?!? She thought that I wanted _Raoul_?!? The thought of such treachery made my stomach twist itself into painful knots. I was speechless for several moments, afraid that I would either laugh or cry.

" My dear friend," I started breathlessly, "you misunderstand me. If you had permitted me to speak to you but only once during the past few months, you would know differently."

Noemi stopped circling me and turned so that she was facing me. "Speaking in riddles will not help you in this. What is it that you are trying to say?"

Venom was still present in her voice, but I also sensed hesitance. This was my one and only chance to redeem myself in her eyes.

"I mean to say that the name of the person to whom my heart belongs is not Raoul, but Erik."

For the first time in my life, I saw Noemi's face show shock.

"You know not of what you speak." She said firmly.

No doubt she took me for a ditzy dreamer who made love fantasies about herself in her spare time. I was determined to prove her wrong.

"Don't I though?" I asked in a harsh tone, "Tell me this then. Where were you when he was alone with no gently guiding hand by his side? Where were you when he was literally dying of heartache?"

It had started out as an accusation, something to prove my point. Now it was a demand for answers. Tears streaming down my face unrestrained, I was angry and tired.

"There was nothing I could have done." Noemi said sadly, "My brother's fate was set from the moment he fell in love."

I was shocked. "Are you saying that you think he has no chance for a painless love life?"

She did not hesitate in answering. "In his situation, yes. That is exactly what I think."

Before the pain began, anger took over. _She had known. _She knew that Christine would betray Erik before the incident even took place.

"You knew. You knew all along and yet did nothing but hide!"

My accusations did not seem to faze Noemi. I grabbed her by the collar and threw her against the wall.

"How dare you shine light on crimes I've not committed, all for the purpose of relieving your own guilt!"

Her only reaction at first was that her eyes began to burn stronger. "If his wellbeing concerns you so, then why have you returned?"

I didn't ask how she knew that I'd been with him. I was at the point where I truly didn't care.

"My return to this dull world of sunlight was the only way to buy peace." I explained, letting go of her blouse.

I was never going to hurt her anyway. How could I? Noemi was still my friend, regardless of how angry I was with her at the moment. Then there was the fact that she was Erik's sister…that was the only thing that kept me from giving her a black eye.

"Peace in exchange for forced sunlight…" she mused, "And why is the absence of night such a grievance to you?"

"Ah, Noemi." I lamented, sitting on the edge of her bed, "If only you knew. Tis' not the night that I treasure, but rather what makes it so. The brilliantly shining moon and stars are replaced by the single shimmering life force that burns stronger than a million suns. And yet its own light it must hide in shadow, lest the evil sun smother it to death like a wet cloth to a simple flame. The shadow in which it so cleverly hides itself may seem desolate, yet is soft and gentle like a warm velvet cloak to the touch of those who dare get close enough to look past its violent-appearing scars. This is my night; with it I do not need nor want a day. Without it, I feel my soul begin to shrivel beneath the cruel sun."

Noemi stared at me in silence for a time, till' I could bear it no more. My head in my lap, I began to sob in loneliness and sorrow. The bed moved slightly, and Noemi's arm slid around me.

"Think you so highly of your night?" she asked solemnly.

"Yes."

I whispered the single syllable with as much emphasis and passion as I could put into my voice, then leaned against her and began to cry once more.

"Then perhaps I am wrong." She quietly said to herself.


	19. Chapter 18

Days slowly turned into weeks as I waited patiently for my return to darkness. I ate little and slept more than was healthy. Erik's locket never left my neck, not even when I bathed. My life consisted of nothing but singing and dreaming. He was the only thing that I dreamed about during that time, which was why I loved to sleep. I'll even admit to taking unnecessary medication to knock myself out for a few extra precious hours. Nights were better that way. I tried to stay up with the others, but it brought me only agony. Without Erik's voice whispering sweet nothings into my ear, night was only a time of day in which shadows taunted me with memories of his touch. Refusing to wake my wounded and sleeping soul for anyone but Noemi, I became dead to the world around me. This was how I waited.

Three days before I would return to my love, rehearsals began for the newest opera. Carlotta had finally taken the hint and left the Opera Populaire. This did not make much difference, as Christine had taken her place in more ways than one. The once sweet innocent chorus girl had now turned into a backstabbing diva. Christine assumed that she would get the lead part for the new opera, but I hoped that she didn't. My hopes weren't just based on my complete loathing for her, but also because of Noemi. She deserved the part more than Christine did and would be able to portray the character better. I probably could have done a better job than Christine also, but why bother? It wasn't as if I'd be around to play the part anyway. Take a guess as to who got the part. Just guess. If you guessed Noemi, then you would be wrong. Christine got the part, but I think that the managers were close to choosing Noemi. Their decision probably had something to do with Christine's husband being their biggest patron. That's right! Christine and Raoul had gotten married during my one-month trial. Mostly I think that they got married then just to rub it in. They could be together any time that they wanted, but Erik and I had to wait. As I cried into my pillow all that day, I swore to myself that I would never leave Erik's arms again for as long as I lived.

The next day, Noemi wasn't at rehearsals. I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I headed to her room afterward. I gently knocked on her door. The door burst open and Noemi stood glaring at me, fire burning in her eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked tersely.

Her anger left me speechless. I had never seen Noemi this furious in her life, and it scared me. Then I saw the pain. Noemi's eyes reminded me so much of Erik's in that one moment that I threw my arms around her.

"Who hurt you Noemi?" I whispered into her ear.

She stepped back and then closed the door so that no one would hear us.

"She threw me out. Christine, the coward she is, went to her husband and had him throw me out!"

The anger in Noemi's voice portrayed her immense hatred for Christine. That was a feeling that I was familiar with.

"How did she ever convince Raoul to fire you?" I asked calmly, "I know that he's naïve, and that he loves her too much for his own good, but Raoul isn't cruel."

Noemi barked a laugh. "That's easy, she lied!"

"What did she tell him?" I asked cautiously.

Her whole face flinched, and Noemi quietly responded, "Ask me again sometime."

Well, that was the end of our conversation. Noemi disappeared that day, and I alone knew where she had gone. She had gone to the cellar to be with her brother, two siblings hiding from the world together. I had lost them both.

I sighed as I was pushed into a line of giggling girls. The last thing that I felt like doing that day was having Madame Giry tell me exactly how tall and fat I was. Why should I have to get measured for an outfit that I would never wear? In just a few hours I would be in Erik's arms, leaving all of my fake happiness behind and trading it in for utter bliss.

"You seem to have lost a little weight my dear…" Madame Giry said in a flustered voice.

"Oh? How much is a little?" I inquired.

She showed me two numbers, a before-and-after sort of comparison. My face grew red, and I self-consciously looked down at my waist. The shirt that had been too tight on me one month ago was now a bit too loose. I found myself wondering if Erik would notice. If he did, what would he say? Would he be angry with me, or maybe just concerned? Perhaps he would be so happy to see me that he wouldn't notice at all. I went with this theory. It was much less distressing than the others.

The clock struck twelve as I sat in front of the mirror. He would be coming soon. I let my mind flow with colorful fantasies of what life would be like after we were together again. I stretched out on the bed and closed my eyes. As I daydreamed and played with my locket, his face swam into view out of the darkness. He was smiling and his eyes were filled with love. Erik reached out toward me and I moved into his embrace. My eyes popped open as I realized that I had fallen asleep. I glanced at the clock and then jumped up to examine it more closely. There was no mistaking the time. It was seven in the morning. I ran out of the room and found the nearest window. Sunlight streamed in, announcing the upcoming day. I flew to Noemi's room and pounded on the door. Nobody came to open it and I slid to the floor sobbing hysterically. He hadn't come.


	20. Chapter 19

**'**Keep an eye on her.' That was what Noemi said to Raoul after she found me curled up at her doorstep. Why she couldn't have watched me herself, I do not know. An even better question would be why she left me at all. Could she not see that I needed her? Maybe she didn't care anymore. Perhaps her interest in me only lasted as long as that of her brother's.

'Oh, Erik,' I thought sorrowfully, 'why did you have to leave me broken like this?'

I was nearly paralyzed with pain. Never had I thought to question his love for me. How could he do to me what Christine had done to him? How could my dearest love be so cruel? I would have done anything for him.

'I probably still would.' I thought miserably.

As the pain in my heart laid bare all of my insecurities, I felt an intense hatred for life growing within my breast. My heart wrenching sobs faded away, and I began to breathe slowly and deliberately. The hatred swallowed my pain and grief, and poisonous thoughts seeped into my mind. In the dark gloom of these thoughts, a plan slowly began to form. The plan became a mission…one that I knew I could not fail at. I would have only one chance. Knowing that I would need to be wide-awake for my mission, I closed my eyes and slept.

The next morning, I went to rehearsal. Everything had to appear normal in order for my plan to work. After practice was over, I made my way to the men's quarters. If there had been any other way to get what I needed, I would have done that instead. After all, I was still considered a lady. I knocked on the door of the last person in the world I wanted to see. He was not a gentleman. He was rude and vulgar. He would have what I needed. When Laurent Broussard answered the door, a look of surprise crossed his face. He obviously never expected me to take him up on his offer to visit him. As I entered his room, I immediately spotted what I was looking for. The room was a mess, but as I said earlier, the man who owned it kept himself surprisingly clean. This meant that he shaved regularly. Which meant that he would have a razor lying around somewhere handy. The 'somewhere handy' happened to be on the counter in front of the filthy mirror. Now my only problem was finding a way to get it without him noticing.

I was wrong. I had another problem. A much bigger problem than I had counted on. The problem was a door…the door that he closed. It was the only way out of the room. Should I have been scared? Probably. Was I? Of course not! To me, the closed door was just an obstacle. The hungry look in Broussard's eyes was simply annoying. I was tired of playing games, so I decided to be an honest thief. Grabbing the razor from the table, I turned toward him.

"I'm going to take this and leave now. You are going to get out of my way. You are going to keep your hands to yourself as I pass. You are going to mention this to no one. Am I understood?" I said all of this while tightly holding the razor in my right hand.

Broussard's face paled and he nodded, stepping slowly aside to let me reach the door. As soon as I was out the door, I hid the razor by strapping it onto my thigh. It would not do to get caught with a potentially lethal object. There was no way Noemi was going to let me do this if she found out about it. Or would she? If she no longer cared about my welfare, then why would she care about this? Still, it was best to be on the safe side by hiding my intentions. I slowly made my way to the roof, my confidence growing with every step. Nothing could stop me now.

This was where it all started. Well, at least for me. I had first heard his voice when coming here. It was warmer now, and the snow had melted months before. I looked up and saw that the sky was full of clouds. Not a single star was shining and even the moon was unable to break through the clouds' thickness. The night matched my mood perfectly. Clouds of hate, pain, and sorrow covered any small patch of soothing light that might have been trying to shine through. Even the smallest star might have been able to save me, but there were none to be found. My night was forever tainted, and I had long since abandoned the day. Having seen what the night could offer, I could never fully return to the world of sunlight. The night had betrayed me and cast me out of the one place that I felt I belonged. This world had nothing left to offer me. It was time to say goodbye.

I closed my eyes and felt the warm night breeze gently brush against my cheek. It was as if he was there beside me. The warmth against my cheek was not the wind, but his gently caressing hand. When I opened my eyes, tears were slowly flowing from them. He would never know it, but Erik had just said goodbye. He said many other things in that non-existent touch as well.

He said, "I love you. Don't do this. I love you. Don't leave me alone. I love you. I love you, my Angel."

Yes, he said many things that I knew he would never say. He said all of the things that he could have said that would have saved me. He would have only had to open his arms to me, and I would have thrown the razor off the edge of the roof. As it was, I lifted my skirt and retrieved the razor from its hiding place. Kneeling on the roof, I prayed to whoever was in charge of souls, be it God or someone else, that they would have mercy upon mine.

The razor was sharp. It broke the skin without much pressure being applied. As the blood spilled forth from my arms, I felt a strange sort of ecstasy. I was escaping! There would be no more pain, no more heartache. But there would apparently be voices. Who was speaking? Well, I guess that _screaming_ would be a more appropriate word. Kristen…Katie…Noemi. Oh, and Raoul. Yippee. It was nice to know that my friends still cared, especially Noemi. I could have done without the fop's voice ringing in my ears, though. I wasn't sure exactly how, but he was definitely partly responsible for all of this. Maybe it was because he had made me leave Erik in the first place. Everything would have been perfect if I hadn't left him. Stupid fop!!! I felt my wrists being rapidly wrapped in cloth. Would cloth be enough? Surely I had cut deep enough that mere cloth could not stop the blood. I looked up and saw Kristen and Katie leaning over me. Where the heck was Noemi?!? Oh well. If I died, it wouldn't really matter where she was. I would still be dead. Lucky me.


	21. Chapter 20

I was dying. I could feel it. Why else would I feel so cold on this warm night? As I lay in the arms of my two best friends, I became afraid. Dying had sounded right in my head when the hatred for life was there, but it was gone. The hatred had vanished when I'd heard my friends' voices. Now there was only fear. Minutes passed and I felt myself slipping into darkness.

"Hold on!" the voice urged.

Well, at least it had the decency to show up in the end. Perhaps it was the voice's fault that I was broken. Who knew? At this point, who cared? I allowed myself to admit that it was not the voice's fault that I was going to die, but Erik's. The moment I thought this, I forgave him. I found myself wishing that I knew why he had left me. Did he not love me as he had promised that he did? Perhaps something had prevented him from coming. What if he was ill, or hurt even? Panic flooded my body and I let a whimper escape from between my cold lips. How could I have been so self-centered? Why hadn't I gone down to his home when he failed to show up? Darkness crept upon me, blurring my vision and then consuming everything.

I was not dead. I was blind and confused, but I could hear and feel everything. I heard Kristen and Katie sobbing. I heard the door to the roof open and close…I heard footsteps…felt a warm hand on my neck…heard a stifled sob…felt myself being taken into someone's arms…tears landing on my face…the person's head nuzzling into my neck. I knew without being told that it was Erik. He was all right. It occurred to me that he must think me dead, but there was nothing that I could do. Try as I might, I could not move to put my arms around him. I could not speak, even to tell him that I loved him. Erik's sobs grew softer and I felt his erratic breathing begin to slowly regulate.

His warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "I love you, my darling."

Had he truly said it? My doubts were washed away as his lips gently brushed mine. Erik set me down onto the ground, and moments later the door closed. This was the last sound I heard.


	22. Chapter 21

Crying. Someone was crying. My eyes opened slowly as I tried to focus my blurry vision. Kristen and Katie were sobbing by my side. Raoul looked guilty and Noemi looked shocked and miserable. I tried to move and found that I could only twitch my hand. Clearing my throat, I tried to get someone's attention. Weak I might have been, but I was not dead. Why wouldn't anyone look at me? I wiggled my hand until it was next to Katie's head, and then bumped her as hard as I could. She looked up at my hand, followed it to my eyes, and screamed.

'That did not help my headache one bit.' I thought with a wince.

Everyone rushed to me, feeling my pulse and laughing with relief. I passed out happy.

I woke up again and found that I was able to move. My hand flew to my neck and felt my locket. Where was Erik? Did he still think that I was dead? Panic overcame me and I sat up as fast as I could, my eyes already searching for Noemi. My eyes met the eyes of several other people before I felt a light touch on my arm. I looked over to see Noemi's face inches from my own. She had known that I was looking for her. Smiling, I threw my arms around her.

"Take me to him." I whispered to her.

She looked at me hesitantly.

"Are you sure?" Noemi questioned.

I stared at her incredulously.

"How could I not be?" I asked, "I've waited a month to be reunited with him. I thought he didn't love me when he failed to come, but I know differently now."

Noemi smiled and helped me to stand to my feet.

"I see that you are not one to hold a grudge." She said.

"All I want is to be in his arms again." I replied with a sigh, "That's not to say that I won't be angry with him later though."

We both knew the chances of me being angry with Erik were slim to none. As soon as my eyes met his, all would be forgiven. I knew this. It slightly aggravated me that he would have been able to hurt me so deeply and not receive any sort of reprimand for it.

'He's been hurt enough already.' I reasoned.

There was also the possibility that I'd already had my revenge. If Erik still thought that I was dead, then he probably was experiencing a pain similar to mine. This thought caused me to speed up ever so slightly. I didn't enjoy the image of my dearest love nearly paralyzed with emotional pain. He'd been through that before and I was forced to witness it. No more. I would take care of his heart; insure that nobody ever hurt him again. He was mine.

The moment Noemi and I reached the bottom of the stairs; I found that I could walk. I ran ahead of Noemi, wanting to reach Erik as fast as possible. My eyes scanned the room, but I was unable to find him. I walked silently toward his bedroom, wondering if I could surprise him with my presence. Noemi had caught up with me, and moved to go into his room before me. I walked in behind her. Both of us nearly fell over when I bumped into her. Slightly annoyed, I went around her. As soon as I was past, Noemi ran in the opposite direction and up the stairs once more. Where was she going? I turned and saw Erik draped over his bed…not breathing.

"No!" I cried.

I flung myself upon his unmoving form, sobbing.


	23. Epilogue

Dear Diary,

Three weeks have past since Noemi's departure. Where she is, I do not know. In the back of my mind I am starting to worry about her. I suppose that she still thinks her brother dead, but there is nothing I can do about that at the moment. This is the first time I have been able to sit down and collect my thoughts about everything. Ever since the day I found him passed out on the bed, I have been constantly striving to keep him alive. I remember my first reaction when I saw him. What might have happened had I not thought to check his pulse? I would never have noticed that he was breathing. God, he barely even had a pulse!

I sometimes journey to nearby doctors' homes in search of medical books. For the first time in my life, I am being forced to steal something of value. How else can I get the information that I need to care for him? I fear that any doctor that I might convince to help me would go to the police. I have no bribing money…I have no money for medicine…even if I did know what was wrong with Erik, how would I cure him? He is not getting worse, and for that I am grateful. I suppose one could say that he is better than he was. Although he is still unconscious for much of the day, he can speak when awake and is no longer delirious. When he first opened his eyes, Erik could only stare into space and mumble things that I could not understand. Then he began to follow me with his eyes, still mumbling. I long for the day when he can follow me with his feet as well. I stay by his side almost constantly, always looking for clues.

I had wondered how Erik would handle my sudden return from the dead. He took it surprisingly well. No questions have been asked concerning that incident. He has not asked how I am alive. I have not asked why he abandoned me. Perhaps someday we will talk about these things, but now is not the time. It is clear that we love each other, and that is all that truly matters. Erik apologized for leaving me. His first words to me were 'I'm sorry'. I have insisted that he not speak of it, but I still see him apologizing every time that I look into his eyes.

Did I forget to mention that we're engaged? Insane, isn't it? Erik is delicately balanced between being deathly ill and being dead. How could he possibly think of marriage at a time like this? Then again…maybe now is the time. So many things have separated us in the past, now may be our only chance. My only regret is that Noemi will miss the wedding. If I only knew where she was, I would write to her. She is like her dear brother in that matter. Both can disappear without a trace. I have not mentioned Noemi's absence to Erik as of yet, but I am sure that he knows. If he does know, then he is doing a good job of hiding it. My goal is to keep his mind as free of worry as possible, but my darling fiancé seems to find things to worry about almost by instinct. The only thing he is not worried about is himself. He seems completely confident that I will be able to get him well again. This scares me. The way he smiles at me nearly tears my heart in half. He constantly reassures me that he is all right. Erik obediently eats the food that I force down him (you know how stubborn he is about eating regularly) and attempts to engage in normal conversation. Even as I watch his strength being sapped from his body by an unknown force, Erik pretends that nothing is wrong. He did this again today…until he found out that he could not sit up by himself.

It is hard for me to write about this, because it would be documented proof that I am failing. I have kept Erik alive and his overall health has slightly improved, but it won't last. If I do not find a cure soon…No! I will not write it! I will not give up. I must be his strength. It is on days like these that I miss Noemi more than usual. And the voice. Why did they both have to leave at the same time? With Erik unconscious most of the time, the only wisdom I have to draw from is my own. Needless to say, this is not much. If anything happens to Erik because of my lack of wisdom, I don't know what I'll do. He is my life.

I brought Erik his dinner, as I always do. Sitting it down on the bedside table, I had my back to Erik for a moment. When I turned around, he was still on his back. His eyes were closed, and for a moment I thought him to be asleep. I put a hand on his shoulder, preparing to gently shake him awake. His eyes opened and I momentarily saw fear in them. Startled by this sudden show of uncertainty, I tightened my grip on him. The fear in his eyes gave way to calm rationality and he put his hand over mine comfortingly. I asked him if he was okay, and he said that he could use some help. At first I did not comprehend what he was referring to. When I did, I felt the blood rapidly drain from my face. His hand squeezed mine and I quickly moved to help him up. Erik tried to help, but I doubt that he contributed much. As soon as he was in an upright position, I pulled back to look at him. Even though I had done most of the work, he was still pale and out of breath.

I felt the weight of the past three weeks crash down upon me. And Diary……I cried. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't break down, but there I was, sitting on the bed crying like an absolute fool. Erik took me in his arms and gently led me to where my head was resting on his chest. His hand came up to softly stroke my head, and I began to sob. Now, if you think my sobbing was like the quiet weeping of most women, you are sadly mistaken. My sobs shook my entire body and left me gasping for breath. I didn't even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed. I still don't. I forced myself to stop crying, and began to sit up. Erik held me in place and brushed my tears away with his hand. Then he kissed me sweetly, once again assuring me that everything was going to be all right. I love him so! I must help him.

One clue that I have as to how to help Erik came from his own lips. While listening to his ramblings, I was able to discern a name. He frequently spoke this name, as if the person could help him. I have asked Erik about the name, but he refuses to tell me anything, constantly changing the subject. Perhaps he and the man of whom he unknowingly spoke are not on good terms. I could truly not care less. Who is this man? Could he possibly be able to help us? I must find him. I must find…Nadir.

Sequel under the name BeautifulxDisasterxAngel


	24. How to Find the Sequels

Hey guys. It occurred to me recently that you might not have been able to locate the sequel! For the sequel (and the third one in the series as well) to this story, go to .?uid=112

This has every story I've ever written. XD


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